She Touched Me
by 50shadeofomg
Summary: A guidance counselor in a middle school gets more than she bargains for when a student enters her office looking for help. She thought he needed love advice, but really it's the saddest thing he's ever heard. One-shot.


_She Touched Me_

I was looking through my paperwork for the day when an unfamiliar student appeared at my door, red in the face from embarrassment and a tortured look in his eyes. I invited him to come into my office and shut the door behind him, which he did eagerly. As he sat down in the seat I offered him, I guessed him to be about eleven years old, possibly twelve depending on how well he was hitting his development milestones.

"How may I help you today?" I asked in my most polite tone. I could tell he was scared, but he looked so troubled too. He needed to get something off his chest, and I didn't mind being the one he told. I just hoped it was love trouble like so many others his age. Love trouble I could handle. Everything else? Well after watching the morning news, I couldn't handle much more.

The boy took a deep breath, "I think I'm being touched inappropriately." He sat there staring at a pile of Post-Its on my desk, studying the pattern as the colors changed—pink, green, yellow, blue, purple, pink—and trying not to meet my gaze.

 _Shit,_ I thought to myself, knowing this was about to get interesting.

"An inappropriate touch is any touch that you don't want, and even if you never told them to stop, they aren't allowed to do that. Does that fit?" I asked, watching as he slowly took in my definition and processed the information that came back from such a definition. I cursed again, knowing I'd hit the nail on the head.

"I was in class reading an assignment. We're learning about certain things, and well, some of my classmates have showed me some other things, and...my sister does it to me. I just never knew what it was," he said.

I nodded in understanding, "That's perfectly understandable. When you're young, sometimes things happen that you don't have a definition for. That doesn't make them any more wrong, and that doesn't make you any worse of a person by letting it happen. I know boys your age hate to hear this, but you're still a child, a little boy, and it's my job to protect you. I want you to tell me whatever you can."

"Okay," he nodded.

The story he told broke my heart, shattered it into a billion pieces with every word that he spoke. He said it started when he was eight. He had two little sisters, one who was in preschool at the time and another who was just a baby. When his mother suggested a family bath, he didn't want to because his preschool-aged sister was a raging bitch—well, I made that up, but he said she had tantrums so I didn't mind adding the mental note—and he didn't want anything to do with her. His mother made him, insisting they needed to save water to make the world a better place.

Being naked around his sisters disturbed him. Right away the toddler began pulling on his penis, and when he slapped her hand away, his mother popped his other hand and told him to leave her alone. She was just doing what was natural to her. When the preschool-aged sister commented about his size, the size of his penis, his mother lovingly said it was the perfect size, almost as if she were selling him to some porn agency.

But I almost wondered if she was, because the next thing I know, they're letting the toddler pull on his penis so much it got bigger (oh great), and they let her keep going while Dad got the camera (well shit), and when he had his first ejaculation, it was cheered by the whole family (fucking shoot me). This continued until it was every night, every bath. He didn't tell a soul about it, but soon the entire preschool was talking about the boy's penis and what it could do.

To make matters worse, they started letting other preschool kids bathe with them (and I'm just now hearing about this years later...?), and of course they played the "make his penis do that THING!" game with him, which the parents encouraged and recorded (oh dear god) and kept for themselves.

Now that he was older and beginning to learn from other boys what masturbation was and other lovely sex things, he knew what was happening, and because he knew what pornography was and what laws were, he knew this was illegal behavior. He wanted help, not because of his piece of motherfucking shit parents, but because he didn't want to go to jail.

"Son, listen to me," I told him with my most authoritative voice, "You have done NOTHING wrong, and you never did. Your parents will get in trouble for this, deep trouble, and if things go the way they should, you'll never have to deal with this ever again."

Tears formed in his eyes, "You'll take me away from those monsters?" he cried.

I nodded, "If that's what comes of this, yes. And the more honest you are, the more likely that is to happen. I need to go get a friend of mine, a nice man named Richard. He's going to help me listen and get things moving."

The kid was open to this, plus when Richard, an off-duty cop who was out of uniform, came in, he also brought a happy meal and a large drink, plus ice cream. He was spoiling the kid, but it worked. I now knew his name was Arthur Read, plus the name of his entire scumbag family, the sisters included. They were just as deluded as he was, spreading playground talk about penis size and circumcision (KIDS DON'T GIVE A SHIT!), but no one ever thought anything of it. They thought the little girls were having potty mouths, not that they were jerking off their brother while one of their parents likely made big bucks online from the footage.

It went as far as they made him watch videos on how a boy was circumcised, with the girls there, and now the middle daughter was obsessed with the subject. The more Arthur said, the more I realized this was the most disturbing family I'd ever come across, all on a day when I really didn't need it. The only saving grace was that this was so disturbing that I had to pass him off to the cops, leaving me out of the loop as soon as he left the school, with a social worker because they didn't trust any of the extended family to take him in.

Things moved after that, but I was out of the loop for most of it. It took years to piece together the rest of the story, but Richard ended up being a reliable source. First up a search warrant and the other kids. The house was ransacked as the girls were picked up from school and interviewed separately. Both eagerly talked about their bath time fun and how their brother's penis did this amazing thing, like oh my god, can all little boys do that? At least the youngest asked that. The middle girl knew and had tried the trick on several classmates. Thankfully no adults, but I knew from experience that anyone as deluded as that would start as soon as they could.

So with their stories confirmed, the search was on full-force. Computers were taken in, every box containing a movie was taken, and so forth. The camera ended up being in the father's catering van, and he ended up being so confused as to how such a thing could happen to their perfect middle-class family. He and the wife were left to their own devices, just without their kids, for three weeks while the district attorney got the case together. Just off the stories alone, he decided to haul them in. When forensics proved there were mountains of child porn in their house, mostly all of it with their own kids, the hammer was thrown down.

They had a damn good lawyer, some religious bozo saying they were "a good Baptist family" and anything they did with their children was meant to be "wholesome entertainment." The police were on a "witch hunt" and something-something Communism, and this was all a huge misunderstanding.

The first jury hung those suckers out to dry so fast they only needed thirty minutes to deliberate. The first appeal took a little longer, but they were deemed guilty again. Years go by, more appeals, but they were always guilty, and always would be. Bathing your children together to save money is one thing, but letting them play with each other's genitals? Sexual abuse and rape, and poor Arthur had had enough.

I met him again years later and it was clear this had a huge effect on his behavior. His relationships sucked, he could barely hold down a job, and he had to go through life alone because his sisters were so brainwashed. Not surprisingly, I learned at a bachelorette party that the middle daughter was a stripper with some definite hooker connections. I guess when you're raised to think everyone else's penis is a toy, you'll go into that line of work. I don't know about the youngest daughter, and I honestly don't want to. Hearing about that family just shatters me, and they're the main reason I left that job. Yeah I ended up working as a barrista instead, but it was better than looking up and finding a sexually abused kid at your door with a horror story straight from Hell itself.

And I know this isn't important, but if it weren't for booze and prescription pills, I probably would've killed myself after hearing about this stuff, especially when I heard other kids were involved. I drank a whole bottle of wine by myself when I found out they weren't charged for the neighbor kids, at least not in the way they were charged with their own. That was a sad day, but at least a lot of parents finally understood why their kids were suddenly so obsessed with genitals.

-End

Author's Note: Just something I cooked up. This is in no way connected to anything else, nope, not a damn thing /sarcasm


End file.
